


Nights Like These

by counterheist



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Domesticity, M/M, empty threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-27
Updated: 2010-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/counterheist/pseuds/counterheist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/17942.html?thread=56666902#t56666902">From the kink meme</a>. Sometimes Spain helps Romano to bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nights Like These

He has a presentation in the morning. He’s been preparing for it all day. He’s tired. Spain is a giant collection of perversions and moral failings.

They’re the only flimsy justifications Romano has to hold on to, to explain why he’s let Spain in under the hot water with him. To explain why he kept the shower door open for a little bit longer than he absolutely needed to. But Romano holds onto his flimsy justifications anyway, the same way he holds onto his wallet and his validated-only-if-he-has-to bus tickets ( _it’s a useful thing, being able to tell which citizen is a ticket collector in disguise_ ). But clinging to something tightly doesn’t mean it’s true, and Romano is a little less than tired as he lets Spain run sure fingers through his hair, mindfully working around _that one_ strand.

If Spain wants to baby him, fine. Fine. Romano knows full well that he is capable of doling out more than enough punishment if Spain thinks that washing Romano’s hair in the shower ( _plenty of soap, both hands, slow circles, roots to tips_ ) equates to some display of power. Of ownership. Of being The Boss, and if Spain thinks Romano’s a dependent little boy in a dress again, Romano will shove Spain’s skull against the faucet and leave.

Spain doesn’t think any of these things as he carefully brings Romano’s head forward, as he massages the suds out of Romano’s hair, as he makes sure to keep the water out of Romano’s eyes. His intentions are nothing but stupid ( _not pure, exactly, but definitely stupid_ ), because Romano can wash himself, _thank you_ , he’s been doing it for centuries. But.

But it feels nice.

And Romano knows Spain knows all of that, even the part where Romano is tempted to shove him back against the hot tiles and storm off ( _he won’t. He only likes having the option. It infuriates him that Spain knows about that too_ ). And even though he knows it, Spain continues to do as he pleases, turning off the water and reaching his arm out into the cold air for a towel, because this is something for him. And because Romano knows the options are there for him, safely waiting in the wings, paths he’ll never take but could have, he goes along with it.

Spain doesn’t do it very often, and Romano does it even less often back. But there’s something about being cared for, and something else about _caring for_ , that catches Romano’s breath enough to silence even his token protests when Spain leads him out of the shower. The towel is warm and soft, and so are Spain’s motions. And since Spain’s helping _him_ , that means he gets to watch Spain drip all over the floor for five minutes _and_ harp at him about making a mess later. It’s really win-win, which is why Romano always starts smiling right around the time Spain stands to pat his hair dry. Spain never sees the smiles with the towel in the way, which would be perfectly fine with Romano, except he knows Spain knows about them anyway, in that annoying way of his ( _seeing the details, never the picture, moron_ ).

Once they’re dry they move towards the sink. Spain opens the medicine cabinet. Romano used to draw the line at Spain brushing his teeth because really? But then one night Spain had asked him if he was tired, and all of a sudden there had been mint instead of an answer rolling off Romano’s tongue, and despite his better judgment Romano had gotten used to it. He still doesn’t know what is so appealing about cleaning his teeth, but Spain’s reflection in their mirror always looks so full of concentration while he’s doing it that Romano keeps his questions to himself ( _‘He probably just likes putting things in my mouth,’ Romano thinks, ‘pervert,’ and the wave of self-righteousness restores his balance_ ).

He leans back against Spain’s chest before Spain can begin to speak. Sometimes Spain chatters on these nights when he helps Romano to bed. Sometimes he is silent. Romano thinks maybe these little differences have everything to do with the course of Spain’s day, but maybe they have nothing to do with anything at all. Maybe sometimes Spain’s last two brain cells can’t rub together the right way to spark a sentence. Romano snickers at the thought, and Spain hums and thumps Romano’s back with his free hand as Romano breaks down coughing. Right. Toothpaste. Toothpaste and mean-spirited laughter and airways rarely mix.

Romano stops coughing before they are done with the bathroom, which is a small blessing. His toothbrush goes back into the cabinet, although Spain’s stays out, waiting. Romano waits too while Spain fetches the hairbrush, although his wait will be shorter because on these nights Romano’s routine takes precedence over everything else. As it should.

Spain continues to hum, no tune that Romano can remember. And in the bright light and steam of the bathroom, naked and standing, Romano falls asleep to the feeling of fingers in his hair ( _was it Spain who had a thing for that or… Romano has already forgotten which came first, the massages or his weakness for them_ ). His last thought is how he will later justify Spain having to carry him to bed.

Or maybe that’s a lie.

Maybe Romano’s last thought is that he wants Spain to carry him to bed, to tuck him in on the right side. To walk around the mattress and settle between the sheets on the left, where he belongs ( _because the right side is Romano’s, it should be obvious why you idiot, hey get off no it’s not cute get off stop it!_ ). Maybe.

Spain’s fingers smell thoroughly of expensive hair products by the time he’s done combing through Romano’s hair with his fingers, hairbrush abandoned long before, perhaps never even used. But that’s alright; he won’t say a word to anyone else about the trouble Romano goes to to look nice, or how he breathes so deeply when he’s relaxed. Or what aftershave he buys or how he prefers his shirts folded, because Spain knows those things too, for the same reason he knows exactly how long it takes Romano to get ready for bed.

Well. To get ready for standing in front of the mirror. For leaning against Spain, in front of the mirror, asleep, and Spain’s glad a thousand times over this isn’t the first time he’s done this because one wrong move and Romano will be awake and irritated instead of asleep and ( _in Spain’s eyes_ ) angelic.

Romano frowns in his sleep and Spain breaks his humming to sigh, content.

He holds Romano in place with one hand while hurrying through the motions of his own nightly routine, eager for bed. Nights like these, Spain reflects, are his favorite.

**Author's Note:**

> I already have something a little like this planned for something else, but when I saw the prompt on the meme I couldn't resist. Also: I think this is becoming my PRESENT TENSE icon. And if anyone was wondering, yes, Run-On Sentences and I are still toying with the idea of making it official. It's just he wants a June wedding and I'll have to be in an internship at that point... /silly.
> 
> Original prompt: Anon has a thing for characters grooming their lovers; washing, shaving, dressing, drying and combing their hair, that kind of thing. Can I get nation A helping his lover B get ready for bed like this? Just to be clear, they’re not doing this because the one being groomed can’t do it himself for whatever reason; it’s just a fun thing. Please try to make it sensual without resorting to actual smut; maybe it’s weird, but I think it’s sexier that way.


End file.
